Trapped in Deaths Embrace
by XxMercyful-DeathxX
Summary: Ophelia, alluring and talented actress of the London stage captures the attention Florent, a despondent immortal yearning to replace his lost love. Set in 19th century London and based as vaguely as possible on The Vampire Chronicles.
1. November Nights

_ :::::::::::::::::**TRAPPED IN DEATHS EMBRACE**::::::::::::::::::::_

_It may well be warm you see, a effigy next to me  
Melting away in the illusory warmth  
Had I not failed to see the signs in front of me  
Admonition and sporadic signs, restrained and plain in my blindness  
I lost myself._

©Sugar

* * *

**_ :::::::::::::::: Florent :::::::::::::::::_**

**  
**I stood there in the dark alley, a soft drizzle sprinkling on my already damp hair, unfurling a few loose strands. I had been following her for quite some time now. Watching her from my box in the theatre and then following her when she left, I had done this every night for the past year. Tonight I had followed her from the theatre through the maze of London's cobblestone streets and dark alley ways to the hovel in White Chapel she called her home. Ophelia's long red gold hair shone like spun gold in the dim lamp light, streaming down her back, as she stalked through the alley clutching her white Lady Macbeth costume that she had been clothed in only an hour or so ago when she stood upon the stage in Drurry Lane. She ducked under the low eaves and wound her way around the corner, I followed like a shadow. I wasn't the only one following her. He had slipped around the corner; she was oblivious to his stealth, like a cat stalking its prey. I was only a few meters away when she stopped dead in her track. She'd heard his footsteps along the slippery ground. Cupping a hand over her mouth, he dragged her to the wall. I saw the silver glint of the blade as he placed the knife at her tender throat; felt her raw terror a her eyes filled with fear and panic and watched the blood pulsate in her vein as the cold metal pressed against her creamy white throat while she struggled against his tight hold. Ophelia fainted and lay limp on the moist ground, the drizzle covering her body in a silvery blanket, while I plunged my teeth into his neck and drained him to the point of death.  
I left his corpse where it lay in the gutter, and bent over Ophelia lying slumped against the wall. I picked up her warm body and cradled it, her heart beating against mine, her red gold curls mingled with my dark hair. She smelt faintly of rose petals, her skin so pink and warm compared to my icy alabaster. I looked down at her face, those soft silky lashes and full red lips. It felt as though time ceased to exist while I stood there in that dark alley cradling Ophelia, the rain getting heavier. It brought me back to a memory that I held so dear to my heart, a name I dared not speak. Desirée.  
I hailed a cab and took her back to my Mayfair townhouse, all the way, stoking her silky gold hair, reminiscing on the past, of Desirée. I lay Ophelia down on the sofa and lit the fire to bring some warmth into the cold November evening, and in hope of waking her up.

**_ :::::::::::::::::: Ophelia ::::::::::::::::::::_**

The fire glowed in the grate casting menacing shadows across the dim room; the only source of light was from the oil lamp that stood on the small table beside where I lay on a richly upholstered sofa. The room's lavish rosewood furnishings and extravagant oil paintings told me that I was in the house of someone wealthy. How I had got there remained a mystery to me still. I sat up and was about to get up and move closer to the fire when the door knob moved. He walked into the room and stopped a few paces away from the fire, in the candlelight he appeared like no other man I had ever seen. His piercing emerald eyes seethed with incandescence that seemed to look straight into my very soul. Clothed in an extravagant tailored coat, he had the air of a lord, but something more, something perpetual, like no one I'd ever known. I had seen him somewhere before, but where exactly, I failed to remember. I was reduced to nothing. All of my previous thoughts, even my fear of how I came to be here became completely insignificant. I lost myself. I sat frozen on the sofa watching and waiting. He must have sensed my fear as his face softened and he smiled. I began to relax.

'And so I suppose you're speculating how you came to find yourself here?' he asked, a mild French accent lingering in his voice. 'You were about to have your throat slit in a dark alley and I had to restrain the assailant. You fainted and I having no notion of where you live brought you here instead of living you to die on the street.' I was silent and looked away from him and into the fire. Sensing my discomfort he turned to me again and waited for me to reply. It took me a few moments to get my thoughts in order when he spoke to me again.

**_ ::::::::::::::::::: Florent :::::::::::::::::::_**_**  
**_

I could sense her fear and confusion as she stared back at me after an uncomfortable silence. Those coffee colored brown eyes searched my face, biting her bottom lip anxiously until she bit is so hard that it punctured a hole and burst, the warm crimson blood trickling down her lip. This aroused me and filled me with a strong passion, the meal I had before completely forgotten as I watched the blood treacle slowly down her chin and drip onto the lacy bodice of her indigo gown. I had to steal myself away not to lunge at her. I went over to the dust covered liquor cabinet and poured her a merlot to warm her up. She took it from me appreciatively and put it to her lips. I watched her drain the glass and saw the color begin to rise in her cheeks and her eyes grow brighter. Not long after she spoke again.

'It is most generous of you, but I'm afraid I know not your name.' She said, regarding me with curiosity as I am used to most mortals doing.

'Though ironically I know yours, Ophelia,' I said, 'My name is Florent, I've seen you perform in the Kings Theatre countless times.'

'Oh! I had a feeling I'd seen you somewhere before.' She said, and paused to take another sip, 'I can't thank you enough for what you did.'

'The pleasures all mine.' I took her hand into mine and she got up, her amber eyes told me she trusted me completely and so I led her out of the room and into the hall.

**A message from Sugar:** It is out of my most sincere respect for the author that alterations have been made to this fanfic, based on a fantastic book and movie which shall not be named, but which you will recognize. The characters are who you think they are; only adjusted out of my respect for the guidelines here. Only those of you who longed to be made immortal will see and understand. Written out of love for Lestat, the Devil himself.

**A/N:**_ I was too young in the 1880's so I can't remember much and some details may not be as accurate as I would like them to be. As the story goes on you will realize what sort of fanfic this is. It is only out of my most sincere respect to the author and fan fiction's policies that I have made these necessary alterations. My fondest wishes if you've read and reviewed._

_xXx_

_ 3_

_Sugar_


	2. Siphon Me

_Past regret reaped in onyx recollection_

_From six feet under a kiss reclaimed._

(c)Sugar

* * *

**_::::::::::::::: Ophelia :::::::::::::::::_**

The interior of the house was lavishly furnished with mahogany furniture; the walls adorned with oil paintings of people long dead. An oil lamp was lit here and there, but the atmosphere remained dim and sober. As Florent led me down the stairs I was able to get a better look at him. He was slightly taller than me and of a slender build, with dark shoulder length hair combed back out of his face, a few strands hanging loose. His fingernails were glass. I hadn't noticed this until now and carefully I tried to get a better glimpse. Downstairs, he led me to an ornately carved double door. I stood aside as he opened it and watched in awe as he led me into the vast elaborately decorated room and seated me at the table.

'I understand you must be hungry, I'll see go see what I can get you.' said Florent before leaving the room.

I got up and walked around the room, the priceless paintings of Dutch masters covered the walls and although the fire was burning in the hearth the room had a cold feel about it. I hadn't noticed him come in and set the silver tray of food on the table. When I turned around he sat at the head of the table and watching me and waiting. He stood up and pulled out the chair for me to sit down and lifted the silver cover off the plate. A roast chicken and vegetables finely cooked and a freshly uncorked bottle of wine which he poured generously into the fine crystal glass. As I ate I observed him out of the corner of my eye as he sat there motionless as if under a heavy spell. A carriage pulled up in the drive of the house and I could hear the click of heals coming towards the room, a rich loud voice singing a song, eventually growing louder as he neared the door.

'Florent!' he sang, 'Oh Florent?'

Florent got up and moved towards the double door as it was flung open by a prolifically dressed gentleman wearing a top hat from which his shoulder length flaxen curls cascaded. He took off the top hat and ran a hand through his hair, his wide mouth smiling and his brilliant blue eyes luminous like gems in contrast to his alabaster complexion as he looked at me.

He clamped a hand on Florent's shoulder and exclaimed, 'Why Florent, I see you've got a guest! And who may this charming mademoiselle be?' he asked, grinning at me, his eyes glinting with mischief.

I stared rapt as Florent introduced me and extended my hand to him without knowing it. His lips caressed my shaking hand like a panther caressing its victim before devouring it as I sat there lost in his cobalt eyed gaze. He grinned and called for Florent to bring him a glass, which he obediently did. Rousseau shared the same incandescence Florent possessed, a seemingly ageless quality, though out of the two, he was the more charismatic and did most of the talking while Florent stared into the fire, every now and then glancing at us.

'Why, you're as cold as ice, my dear!' said Rousseau, putting his arm around me and teasing one of my loose curls. His nails, glass like Florent's. Without me noticing he led me to a sofa near the fireplace and we sat down, Rousseau pouring me another glass.

'Oh, I don't feel too good, Rousseau.' I said as he put the bottle down on the table and wrapped his arm around me, 'I think I've had enough.' I insisted.

'Ophelia, darling, you have no head for fine wine like this!' he exclaimed and laughed. He lifted the glass to my lips. 'What would you say if I tasted your lips?' he asked, twisting a lose strand of my hair into a ringlet, his face only inches from mine.

**_

* * *

_****_:::::::::::::::: Florent:::::::::::::::_**_**  
**_

She kisses him; he lets his tongue play with hers, and then runs it down her neck. Ophelia swoons with pleasure and from the laudanum Rousseau laced into the wine. His lips caress her neck as he prepares to sink his teeth into her throat. He turns around and looks at me playfully.

'The honor is yours, Florent, go on, take the first bite, come, taste her lips.' Rousseau beacons.

He fills me with smoldering fury; I throw him off her and onto the Persian rug. He laughs and gets to his feet.

'Oh Florent, I take it that your in love with this mortal! For have you not stalked her every night, your heart giving you no rest! You're resisting the one thing that can give you peace!'

'Rousseau, leave her, I don't want to take her life.'

'Love is terrible for you, Florent; you feel it like a human, still, but you're a vampire! Then do whatever it is in your nature to do. Take her, Florent!'

The sky was beginning to grow a faint shade of purple, dawn was approaching. Ophelia lay on the settee in an perpetual slumber, her mane of hair framing her face and spilling onto the velvet pillows. I picked her up, cradling her as I had once done with Desirée and carried her up the stairs, Rousseau in tow.

'So what is it that you plan to do now, Florent? Make her one of us? Another child of darkness? You pine for Desirée and here you've found another one, to take her place? Admit it, Florent!' demanded Rousseau, standing in the doorway observing me as I laid Ophelia onto the four poster bed and covered her with a blanket. I drew the curtains around her, taking one last look at her. Silently I followed Rousseau to the chamber where we retreated each morning. Rousseau sat up in the coffin, he looked directly at me and was about to say something. Instead I slammed the lid of the coffin shut and fell into a troubled sleep.

* * *

**A/N: Well I was kind of expecting someone would review and give me an honest opinion of what they think so far, and hopefully some constructive criticism. Those of you familiar with The Vampire Chronicles and the movie will be able to tell what this chapter was inspired from. Well, hope to hear from you soon. Best wishes,**

**SugarxXx**


	3. Desire

_Your eyes that gazed in mine_

_Soft touch dragging me under_

_Remain engraved in memory_

_To disperse fragments of my sanity_

_And give me something to bear_

_No longer able to conceal_

_The blood lust of my desires._

©Sugar2007

* * *

_**:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::Rousseau:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**_

Florent was still asleep when I rose from my coffin the next evening. Ophelia was still in the house and was beginning to wake up, the laudanum I had cleverly laced into the wine was wearing off. My thirst was unbearable and as I stumbled out of the room I could hear her thoughts coming down the corridor. The delirium was beginning to wear off and slowly she was coming to her senses. She lay staring at the ceiling, wide eyed and flustered. Hearing me come in, she sat up and pushed back the tangle of curls from her face, stretching out her hand to me. Instinctively I gathered her up in my arms. I looked down pitying on her beautiful face. I stroked her soft creamy cheek, her eyelashes trembling as she looked into my eyes.  
'Ophelia, darling, your very ill my dear, but I am going to make you better.'

I brought my head down towards her neck. She shivered as my lips brushed her throat. Florent stood in the door way. I let go of Ophelia and backed away laughing, she slipped from my arms and onto the bed.

'Well you caught me, Florent, don't worry, she's all yours!'

Florent stared at me in horror. He checked Ophelia's throat for wounds and seeing none, he relaxed. I laughed, and left the room.

**:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::Florent::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
**

I cradled her in my arms and looked down onto her pale, doll like features. Her silky lashes fluttered and looked up into my eyes, her expression dazed and confused, the red gold curls tumbling down her forehead and cascading down her bare shoulders. I could feel the blood pulsing through her veins, tormenting my ravishing hunger as I glanced at her bare neck. Just one taste and nothing more. But I knew I was deceiving myself, for I would never be able to pull away once I tasted the tender pink flesh. I could not take her life and I would not allow Rousseau to either.

'You are the devil, are you not?' she asked, her amber eyes searching my face anxiously.

'Why would I have brought you hear if I was the devil? Would you not now be dead? What would I want from you?'

'But what do you want from me? Why do you keep me here like this?' she asked, trying to sit up  
and pull away from my grasp. I held her wrist tight and watched her struggle.

'Because you're so beautiful and full of life, so passionate and strong, you remind me of someone I used to ...' I paused.It hurt me to say it, to have her look at me with such a wild expression of fear and anger that I wanted to plunge my teeth into her neck and drain her till her last heart beat. I could no longer bear to look at her and turned to look out of the window. Through the London fog ghostly buildings stood silhouetted against the dusk. Rousseau appeared in the doorway, radiant and beautiful in the candlelight. Ophelia broke away from my gaze and observed him.

She turned to Rousseau and pleaded, 'Monsieur, please, you must let me go, I must get back to the Theatre, I am due to perform tonight as Lady Macbeth! I beg and beseech you to find it in your heart to let me go! Please Monsieur?' Her pleading making Rousseau beam, he turned to grin at me. She threw herself on the bed and sobbed.

Rousseau broke into a shaking fit of laughter that echoed throughout the house and made the candles flicker. Instinctively I gathered her up in my arms and held her against my heart protectively, looking back at the spectacle of Rousseau shaking with laughter. Ophelia shook as more torrents of tears poured down her face and saturated my shirt. She stopped crying and turned to look at me, I turned my face downward and looked at her, her face stricken with fear and grief. I stroked her cheek, my hand running down her throat, the stabbing hunger pulsating through my body as her crying subsided. I closed my eyes, my hand on her throat, and like a man possed, bent to caress it, my fangs deep within her flesh. Rousseau towered over us, howling with laughter.

'My, my, Florent! How touching! And I thought you promised yourself not to harm the girl! Ah, my friend, why that's simply your vampire nature!' he exclaimed before breaking into another fit of laughter.

I broke away and stared at the unconscious Ophelia in my arms and let her slip gently onto the bed. Shamefully I wiped my mouth and stared at the streaks of blood on my hand, the tiny wounds on her throat.

'Well fancy that, Florent, the girl lives! You've left her alive after all!' Rousseau taunted me, sitting on the bed next to her and stroking her hair and teasing her curls. 'Come on Florent, you hunger for a female companion, you know you want her Florent, the pain has been excruciating for you, you feel the need to replace Desirée, you can't go on like this.'

He gave me a compassionate look and grinned, his fang teeth showing.

'Do what you've wanted to do since the moment you first saw her on stage, for only then will you truly be at peace. You will feel as you felt when Desirée was with us.'

He looked reminiscent for a moment, I searched his gaze, confused how a vampire so merciless and cruel as Rousseau could possibly understand what he was talking about. Intrigued and seduced I watched as Rousseau lifted Ophelia in his arms and drew her towards him, I looked at her, stricken with a mad passion as I remained entranced by her delicate beauty and fragility.

'You haven't fed enough, Florent,' he said gently as Ophelia murmured in her sleep.

I was ravished with a desperate hunger, agonizing over her fate as Rousseau held her in his arms like a doll and whispered in my ear, his voice full of hilarity, 'Take her Florent, embrace that maddening ecstasy you so crave for.' he said, as he slipped her into my arms.

I shut my eyes and caressed her, kissing her rose bud lips, brushing the silky curls off her neck and slowly, gently sunk my teeth into her, careful so as not to wake her.

* * *

**A/N: I would just like to thank _RoseofthePhantom_ (gorgeous name by the way) and _overcheatedxdreamer_ who kindly reviewed! Hope to hear from you soon, constructive criticism much appreciated. xXxSugar**


	4. Call the Angels

_She said die youthful and abscond arousal of beauty.  
Its all I eternally might have solicited,  
Had I pleaded you._

©Sugar

* * *

**:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::Ophelia:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

I felt the press of his body against mine, as Florent moaned and sunk into a swoon. The pounding of drums made me loose my train of thought and I heard the echo of Rousseau's laughter. His hand cradled me tenderly as he gripped me in his deadly embrace. The room spun and twirled like dancers at a masquerade, Rousseau's laughter and the music of a harpsichord rose and fell under the slowing beat of my heart, the drum barely an echo in the distance. Florent let go and let me roll beside him onto the bed. He lifted his wrist to his teeth and slashed the vein with his fangs; the blood poured out in a crimson torrent as he lifted it to my lips and gathered me up  
in his arms. I clutched his wrist and tasted the warm metallic vampire blood on my lips. I held onto him until he winced with pain and pulled away, staggering and collapsing into Rousseau's arms. The room spun, inanimate objects coming to life, the calls of the street criers and the sound of horses hooves on the cobblestones pounded in my head. I clutched my head in pain and let out a piercing animal scream that sent the window cracking up into crystal fragments before falling into the street below. Rousseau lunged at me and covered my mouth with his hand. He turned to stare at Florent who lay collapsed next to the bed. Florent moaned and staggered to get up. His brilliant emerald eyes sparkled, his dark hair gleamed and his alabaster skin glowed as if illuminated. Everything in the room shone brighter, the oil paintings on the wall seemed to breathe. Rousseau was talking to me, he shook me. I stared at him in rapture.

'Ophelia? Ophelia! Listen to me, ma chere, you've been very ill, but to get well you're going to have to take some medicine.' he said, stroking my cheek and tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. Florent snatched me from his grasp and put his arm around my waist.

'Oh, Florent! No need for that! We have eternity with her, why fight now?' Rousseau joked and winked at me before leaving the room. Florent led me to the bed and sat me down, putting his arm around me. He sat there looking at me for what seemed like a life time until he heard the scrape of Rousseau's boots upon the stairs, springing to life like a puppet. Rousseau entered the room carrying an assortment of brightly colored piles of clothes in his arms which he placed onto the settee and gestured for me to sit beside him. Florent stared transfixed as Rousseau held up an emerald gown of watery silk to me.

'You're a beautiful girl, ma cherie, we must dress you in something fine that complements your beauty.' he said, holding my face to his.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Florent as he searched through the pile, selecting certain items and placing them beside him on the settee.

'Yes, I think this gown will complement your features excellently.' said Rousseau, placing the gown on my arm and instructing me to go behind an oriental silk screen to change.

Florent sat on the settee staring at nothing in particular, ignoring Rousseau while he rummaged through the pile and threw out random pieces of clothes for me to put on. In my dreamlike state I did as I was told and followed Rousseau's instructions. When I was dressed to their satisfaction, Rousseau sat me down in front of an ornately gilded mirror and ran a tortoise comb through my hair. I hardly recognized the girl I saw in the mirror as Rousseau stood behind me arranging the red gold curls around my face and decorating it with bejeweled ornaments shaped as butterflies and flowers. I felt a stab of sharp pain on my lip and shrieked, in an instant Florent was beside me. Rousseau scowled.

'You monster!' he shouted at Rousseau, 'You didn't even consider explaining to her what's happening to her!'

Blood treacled out of my mouth and down my throat, I examined my fang teeth in the mirror. Rousseau wiped the blood off my lips and held it to his. I stared at him feeling nothing, though thinking why the act disturbed me so much made no sense. He smiled with delight and kissed my cheek.

'You disgust me, Rousseau. You're one cruel son of a bitch,' said Florent, his voice full of resent.

Rousseau grimaced, 'Do you want to upset our bride? This is her Wedding night, why spoil it, Florent, have you no heart?'

I froze. 'Bride?!' I screamed, 'I am not your bride.' I looked up at Rousseau who appeared annoyed that I had no notion of this. Florent looked at me sympathetically, took my hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

'Oh, but you are, darling.' He said, looking at me in a matter of fact way before continuing. 'You are my bride, and Florent 's bride.'

I stood up and Florent placed his arms around me, striking me with sympathy and passion. It could not be undone. His touch was irresistible. He held me gently in his arms, his fang teeth visible from the faint trace of a smile that had spread across his face. I lost myself; I couldn't break away from his embrace and did not want to. He stroked my cheek and ran his hand through my hair. Shocked at his beauty I clasped his head and kissed his lips. My body relaxed as he embraced me, holding me against him.

Rousseau stood watching us, a bitter smile on his lips. 'I'd hate to intrude on such a tender moment, lovers, but I have the carriage waiting downstairs. So if you don't mind, you can continue this display of affection after I've fed.' Taking a jacket out of the wardrobe, and a hat hanging from a hook, he gestured for us to follow him.

Outside a black polished coach gleamed in the lamp light of the courtyard. The coachman after having been given instructions from Rousseau opened the door for us. Seated between Florent and Rousseau on the richly upholstered red velvet, the carriage flew across the cobblestones and disappeared amongst the crowded Mayfair Street.

* * *

Florent and Rousseau seemed to glow in the darkness of the carriage. Neither of them said a word, just stared straight ahead. I was trying to work up the courage to ask where it was that they were taking me and was relieved when Florent spoke.

'Where are we going tonight?' he asked Rousseau, looking at him quickly and then returning his focus on the wall of the carriage.

'A place Ophelia knows very well, she will lead us to our prey tonight.' he said, smiling at me, his fang teeth protruding ever so slightly from his wide curved mouth.

'White Chapel?' I asked, hoping I had made some mistake.

'The very place, only the very finest will satisfy my appetite tonight.' he said and laughed.

I thought of the crowded streets and filthy taverns full of scum, the underworld I had known so well. What if someone was to recognize me?

'Tonight I want the blood of White Chapel's finest - the murderers, thieves and cut throats that thrive like vermin in these squalid streets. You might even recognize some of them!' he smiled at his joke.

Florent looked uneasy and remained quiet. The carriage came to a halt and we waited as the coach man stood aside with the door open for us as we descended into the crowded street. Rousseau took my wrist firmly as we walked through the evening crowds, Florent following beside me took my arm, Rousseau shot him an angry glance.

'Where shall we go first, ma chere?' asked Rousseau, looking around us, waiting patiently for me to make up my mind.

The _Ten Bells_ was just around the corner and would be full of prostitutes, dealers, thieves - the unfortunates Rousseau was so keen to prey on.  
We entered the crowded, smoky little tavern, Rousseau surveying the room. A group of prostitutes sat at a wooden gambling table entertaining a group of rough looking men. Rousseau led us to the table and reached into his pocket for some coins and notes that he quickly planted on the table.

'My my! What a fine gentleman indeed!' exclaimed a brightly made up girl as she took Rousseau's hand, losing all interest in the man whose lap she'd been sitting on.

Rousseau kissed her hand and slipped his arm around her waist, the girls giggled and one of the men began to lay the cards out on the table. Florent pulled out a chair for me and sat down beside me, I felt his hand on my lap under the table and looked up at him, he returned my gaze.

'Don't worry,' he whispered in my ear, 'Take the man on you're right and do as I do with this girl here.' He said, indicating to the prostitute who was eyeing him from across the table.

I watched Rousseau as he teased the girl, playing with her hair and complementing her. I couldn't help but feel jealous, or maybe it wasn't jealousy that I felt, it was the piercing hunger that racked my body. The girl had placed her head on Rousseau's chest and he stroked her cheek, all the while looking at her neck. I caught his gaze and he smiled those cold gleaming blue eyes.  
The man who had been watching me nervously turned to me and poured me a glass of wine. I cordially accepted his offer and lifted the glass to my lips, giving the appearance of taking a dainty sip. Florent was struggling with a rubenesque girl that had placed herself on his lap and had her arms around him. Rousseau turned to whisper in the girl's ear, she giggled and both of them rose and started towards the stair case. Florent's girl saw her friend go and whispered in Florent's ear. He gave me a hurried glance and followed her out the door. I was left alone with the mild mannered man who was talking quickly in an accent I couldn't understand. I nodded and smiled while waiting for Rousseau and Florent to return.

Rousseau came first, descending down the stair case with the grace of a panther, his face had taken a complete transformation, everything about him seemed to have an evanescent gleam. He looked at me and the man I was struggling with.

'Ah Ophelia darling, a moment, if you don't mind, Sir?' he asked in his velvet voice, the man completely lost.

'O - of course!' he stuttered and hurried to pour himself another glass.

Rousseau took my arm and led me towards the bar, 'Hurry up!' He hissed, in my ear, 'You're dying Ophelia, and it will hurt unless you get something into you.'

I stared at him in shock. He waved away my look and started again, 'Now listen, take that man out back into the alley and bleed him to the point of death. Remember, you must stop as soon as his heart beat slows, if you don't, he will drag you into death with him. Now go!' he hissed before turning back to the table.

I stumbled back towards the table and propositioned the man in the most seductive tone I could manage. He stood up quickly, nearly knocking his glass over and took my hand in his sweaty palm. I saw Florent dart across the dark alley out of the corner of my eye as I stopped by the wall. He began to fumble with the lace of my corset, Florent stood in the shadows watching me, his face expressionless. I placed my lips on his neck and pierced his flesh. The mildew covered walls of the alley melted away as I was enveloped in a haze, his pulse beating like a drum as I fell into a swoon.

'Ophelia!' I could hear my name being called; I struggled to open my eyes to find Florent pulling me away from him.

'Stop! He's dead!' he cried, I had slumped on the floor beside him and stared at him standing over me. I was paralyzed. He slashed his wrist and put it to my lips. Instinctively I began to drink, the swoon returning.

'Enough!' he pulled away in pain and stood up. He extended a hand and pulled me to my feet and stood there looking down at me. His dark hair dishelved and hanging around his face.

'I'm sorry, I forgot,' I tried to explain, he took me in his arms and embraced me.

'Didn't Rousseau warn you?' he asked, still holding me in his tight embrace.

'He did. I just...'

Rousseau stood at the end of the alley, a smirk on his animated white face, 'Oh Florent! Aren't you proud of our little fledgling?' he said in a mocking voice, pushing Florent away and taking my face in his hands. I looked into his gleaming eyes and waited for him to go on mocking me. I lost interest in his eyes and shuddered.

'Come along now, love, the night is still young!' he gestured flamboyantly, one arm still around  
me, his eyes riveted on Florent in a scowl as the crowd closed in around us indifferently.

* * *

**A/N: Reviews and constructive criticism much appreciated. Thank you kindly for reading. Best wishes,**

**xXxSugar, Adieu**


	5. Blood Turned to Tears

_My apologies that I still breathe, _

_That I'll slay again, _

_Solitude overwhelms me,_

_ The flavor of blood my flaw. _

_©Sugar_

* * *

Florent's face was a mixture of anger and sadness as he pushed through the crowd towards where our carriage waited. The door was pulled open, he sat beside me entwining his fingers with mine, his face sad and tender as he looked at me, then turned to Rousseau and stared at him bitterly. 

'Oh Florent!' Rousseau let out an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes.

I had not asked for this, I had never even considered something like this ever happening to me. I could not die. As the sun and moon would go on rising and setting, I would not die, I would live forever. A darkness settled upon me that I knew not how to lift.

'Don't look so sad, ma chere, it will take time, but you will get used to killing, you have all the time in the world.' said Rousseau patiently and looked back at Florent who seemed distant and lost in thought.

'I don't know about you two, but I am still hungry!' exclaimed Rousseau, looking at me and grinning.

'Where are we going?'

'Covent garden!' said Rousseau, 'Nothing but the blood of a fine thespian will do to quench my thirst!'

The carriage came to a halt, Rousseau grabbed his top hat and cane as he got out and stood by the carriage outside Her Majesty's Theatre, extending a slender, white gloved hand to me. We pushed through the crowds into the lobby, I waited with Florent while Rousseau went to arrange our seating. I looked around nervously, trying to avoid looking at anyone incase I saw anyone who knew me or recognized me.  
A spasm of pain ran through my body, I gripped Florent's hand to keep my balance. He put his arm around me and led me towards a sofa on the other side of the room. He took my hands in his and sat beside me.  
'Am I dying?' I asked, watching a crowd of bejeweled women stroll past me and go up the spiral staircase.

'Ophelia, your body is dying, but you will live on after it has died,' he paused and looked over his shoulder before continuing, 'I will stay by your side, it should be over soon.' He stopped.

Rousseau was striding towards us, holding three ballet tickets in his hand and beaconing us towards him. A private box arranged right above the stage had been acquired for us by Rousseau 's sweet talk. As we arranged ourselves on the richly upholstered seats, Rousseau turned to me, a look of full concern painting his face.

'Aux ma chere! You need to feed again, it will make your death quicker.' he said, leaning on the balcony and looking down. After a pause he signaled for me to join him. I turned to where he was looking and found myself gasping in horror as I saw Caroline's lithe figure standing in the wings surrounded by a group of ballerinas.

'Rousseau! No!'

His fang teeth protruded from his mouth as he flashed me a smile, 'Go on, Ophelia, show me that you have the Dark Gift! Show me what you can do! Kill her!'

Florent rose from his seat and stood between me and Rousseau, ' Rousseau, that's her friend, have a heart.' he pleaded meekly, giving me a hopeful glance. 'Please, Rousseau? I will go find someone right now.' he said, placing a long white hand on Rousseau's arm. Rousseau pushed past him fuming with anger and left the box.

'How do you feel?' asked Florent, sighing after Rousseau had gone. I looked into his incandescent eyes; he gazed back and tucked a loose curl behind my ear. Another spasm of pain shook my body.  
He led me to the sofa and bade me to lie down. I heard laughter coming up the stairs and froze as the curtain was pulled back to reveal Rousseau, Caroline standing beside him, her face glowing with radiance as she beamed at Rousseau who had his hand around her waist. Her eyes widened with shock as she saw me lying on the couch with Florent sitting beside me.  
She broke away from Rousseau and ran towards me throwing her arms around my neck.

'Ophelia!' she cried, pulling away to look at me, 'Why...wh...where have you been...' taking me in her arms and putting her head on my shoulder.  
I choked as I tried to speak, my eyes filling up with tears. Rousseau grimaced at me, his fang teeth protruding as he mimed what he wanted for me to do.

'Do it now!' he hissed above the sound of the orchestra tuning up in the pits, 'If you don't kill her now, I will.' He showed no sympathy and grasped Florent's arm in a tight grip to restrain him. I took a quick look at Rousseau, his menacing grin flashing his fang teeth, bearing them at me threateningly. Florent was crazed trying to push Rousseau away.

'Ophelia!' he roared, 'I've made it easy for you, kill her!'

Caroline looked confused and pulled away, her eyes full of terror, I held her in my firm grasp and lifted my mouth to her neck. Rousseau watched me, his eyes fixed on me as I drained my child hood friend until her heart ceased to beat. Her lifeless body, still warm and smelling of lilac fell to the floor with a soft thud, I saw Rousseau's mouth move as he clamped his hand onto my shoulder to congratulate me. I pulled away and pushed past him and Florent, running down the stairs, tears blinding me, my body shaking. I wiped the blood from my lips with the back of my hand as I made my way through the crowds gathered in the lobby and fled down the stairs into the night.

I was no more than a shadow as I passed through the crowds at a pace unnoticeable to mortal eyes. I stood enveloped in a thick blanket of fog on the banks of the Thames, looking at the onyx black water as it hit the rocks. The moon, invisible behind the clouds. I sat on a rock, hugging my knees to my chest. Torrents of tears stormed from my eyes, I wiped them away with the back of my hand, only to notice the red stains that formed. I was crying blood. The spasms were gone completely. I was left to go insane from guilt and fury. Florent stood uncertain a few meters away, the rain beginning to fall on him. He sprang to life and walked towards me so fluidly that he hardly appeared to move, the light in the distance illuminating him. Now he stood beside me and put his hand on my shoulder.

'Why did I do it?' I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

'Because you had to, Ophelia, not because you wanted to.' he said, sympathetically, his eyes glowing in the darkness.

'I can't live like this.'

'The pain will become only a small throbbing as time goes on,' he said gently, 'It was only a hundred years ago, that was where you find yourself now. I know how you feel.'

'How could you?' I screamed, enraged at his calmness.

'Memento Mori. Death comes to everyone Ophelia, everyone that lives must drink from the cup, but not us.' he stared at me, a smile on his lips, my vision becoming dull and trancelike as I drew closer towards him. He stood before me angelic in his preternatural ambience. 'Forever we shall remain like this, young as you are now, you will never age, time will never fall shadow upon your face with age, you will be how you are now. Always and forever,' he continued patiently and persuasively, 'Although I have Rousseau, I long for a companion, someone to share my thoughts and feelings with, someone who I can let into my heart. Ophelia, will you be that someone?'

I was angry and entranced with his angelic beauty as I embraced him, our heartbeats beating as one as we stood upon the dark beach, the rain getting harder as it fell on us.

'You feel the way I felt when I was alive, you know what it is to love...like I did so long ago. '

'You really want to be with me?' I asked, afraid and anxious all the while.

'Yes. If you can forgive me for killing you. I shouldn't have let you die. You don't understand how hard I tried to stay away from you. In the end I just couldn't take it. From the moment I first laid eyes on you I knew I had to have you.'

I lifted my mouth to his and kissed him, he opened his mouth and gathering me up in his arms. I tasted death on his lips each time we kissed, I thought to myself as I kissed him back.

He stopped and looked down at me, a smile on his lips.  
'It's nearly dawn,' said Florent, looking up at where the clouds had parted, 'Time to go back.'

We walked along the beach in silence and hailed the first brougham that came our way. The sky had turned a faint shade of purple as we raced up the drive and ran into the house. Rousseau sat at the bottom of the staircase, radiant in the candle light.

'Oh how beautiful death has made you, ma chere.' said Rousseau, standing up and drawing towards me. He traced my jaw line with his ice cold hand and ran his fingers through my hair. He drew towards me and placed his lips on mine. I pulled away.

'What's this?' he cried outraged, 'you ungrateful girl!' he grabbed my wrist and his grip around me tightened. 'Just remember, you're one of us now, your very existence depends on me.'

'Leave her alone, Rousseau, it's nearly dawn.' said Florent, putting an arm around me protectively. He took my hand and led me upstairs. In the middle of the room stood two ornately carved mahogany coffins. Rousseau followed us into the room and bolted the door behind him, a menacing smile on his lips as he watched my horror. Florent put a protective arm around me and led me towards a coffin on the right. He let go of me and opened the coffin, the red satin shone like blood in the candlelight. I stared at him in shock, then looked at Rousseau who beamed at me, I turned away from both of them and stared into the coffin.

'Go on,' said Rousseau, 'the sun will rise soon and you will be reduced to a pile of ashes.'

I hesitated and looked at Florent who looked apprehensive.

'Please, Ophelia. You must get in.' he assured me, 'it's nothing to fear, you shall dream the sweet dreams of death and when you wake, I'll be here.'

I looked at the two coffins, 'Where will I sleep?'

Rousseau glared threateningly at Florent who in return narrowed his eyes bitterly. 'It's the lady's choice, Rousseau,' his voice full of resent as he said his name. He turned to me,

'Ophelia?'

Rousseau looked at me pleadingly, all most begging. I looked at him uncertainly and took Florent's hand. Rousseau spat and got into his coffin, slamming the lid shut, muttering under his breath. Florent gracefully climbed into the coffin and lay on his back, his arms outstretched towards me. I climbed in and lay in his arms. The coffin door was pulled shut and I was lapsed into total darkness.

'Florent?' I whispered in the darkness, my face inches from his, 'Will I be dead when I wake up?' I asked, thinking how ridiculous that sounded.

'Yes, when you awake you will be dead. A fully fledged vampire.' he answered me in the darkness and closed his eyes.

* * *

**A/N: Reviews and constructive criticism would be lovely. Thank you kindly for reading. Best wishes, xXxSugar, Adieu**


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